Different Life
by Mogli the Witch
Summary: AU-story - Post-Hogwarts - In the desert of Saudi-Arabia, a young woman wonders about the pecularity of her mysterious husband about whose past she almost knows nothing. Until something happens...
1. Desert Dreams

DISCLAIMER:   
  
This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
  
AN: This is an AU-story.   
  
It may become very dark and it contains mentions of torture and death, and as it is an story for adult, it contains mentions of sexual relations - but non-violant ones and nothing explicite as this is not NC-17, but R. If I decide to write something like non-con, I will mention it in the AN of the corresponding chapter. Please read the AN's!  
  
Includes character deaths (at least in the following chapters). Don't read it if you don't think you can bear that.   
  
It also includes mentions of the Islamic religion and the holy qu'ran.   
  
I don't really know everything about this religion, even if I am very interested in it (because I have worked in an office of an tour operator for pilgrims to Mecca and Medina and met very nice people who very strong in their believes - it was really impressive)   
  
Please excuse me if something I wrote offends you, it is not my intention at all.  
  
The mentions of violence used against women or children in the tribe which I wrote are *not* due to this religion, but to a horrible *tradition*, which is a major difference.  
  
Please excuse my poor Englisch - I know that I am in bad need of a good beta-reader, but until I've found one, you will have either to bear with the mistakes or simply not read it.  
  
I really like reviews, constructive criticism is highly appreciated - but I cannot take flamers seriously.  
  
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Chapter 1: Mysterious Husband  
  
Sometimes, Shayla wondered about her husband. He was a good, kind man - he was never angry or impatient, and he'd never beaten her or the children. First she'd been very afraid to marry someone from so far away, but she had had not much of a choice. Her father had arranged the marriage. Today, she was grateful that she didn't run away (she'd really considered that), but he had been so understanding.  
  
In her wedding night she'd been trembling of fear, and he had simply embraced her and told her in soothing words that she needn't be afraid, that he would never hurt her. Due to their traditions, they had to fullfill the marriage tonight, and in the morning the bloody blanket would be shown to the tribe, to confirm that the bride had been a virgin.  
  
But it had been different - he had cut his arm and put his blood on the blankets, than he had smiled at her and said: "We'll do that when you know me better. You needn't be afraid, my wife."  
  
And he had pullled her trembling form into his arms and she'd slept in his arms peacefully.  
  
It had been three months until he had slept with her for the first time, and by this time she had already been in love with him.  
  
That had been 10 years ago and she was still happy in her marriage, but some things about him were still an enigma to her.  
  
She knew almost nothing about his past life in the far away country England, and sometimes he awoke screaming words she didn't understand because she had never learned his tongue. And then there were days when he was silent and melancholic, deeply in thought, and she asked herself what he might be remembering. But she never asked, because that would have been inappropriate given the fact that he seemed to avoid mentioning anything of his past.  
  
Her only hope was that someday she would be told the reasons for his deep sadness and the terrible pain she saw in his eyes on those day.  
  
They had two children - Fatiha Lilian and Karim James. People sometimes wondered about the second given names, especially because of the fact that her husband looked almost like one of their tribe, only his eyes betrayed his foreign roots, because they were green as the leafs of a palm tree.  
  
And he spoke Arabic like one of them, and shared their traditions and habits. He fit in perfectly - nobody who didn't knew that he was a foreigner could have told.  
  
And yet - when Shalya thought about that she had to admit that their were signs that he was entirely different. He was respectful against anyone, he treated even the young girls with respect. he never shouted orders, but merely asked them for favours.  
  
And when they were alone, he would speak to him as if she was equal. It had been frightening for her at the beginning.  
  
He had asked her if she agreed with the buy of a jeep and she'd been literally shocked.  
  
And it would have caused even more peculiar thoughts in her ('Didn't he see her, respect her as a woman? Was he one of those strange men, she'd heard of who prefered their own gender?) if he hadn't shown her every night that he desired her, a womans body, and although he was tender and careful, he was strong and dominant as a man in the the tribe would have been.  
  
***  
  
The last night had been a terrible one. One of his nightmares, but it had been this horrible before. She had tried to wake him up, but couldn't, and he had screamed one of the few words of his language she had learned: "No...!" and other words she didn't understand. After what seemed an eternity he had woken up and vomited, his hands clutched at his forehead, as if in terrible pain.  
  
She cooled his forehead with a wet towel - something he would only allow when he felt very ill - due to the constant shortness of water in this desert.  
  
And he had not said a word, only stared at the ceiling of their tent. He was thinking hard, had a that grave expression at his face that she didn't dare to interrupt his line of thoughts.   
  
Shayla had never seem him that serious, and it frightened her deeply.  
  
And then, suddenly, he had broken the silence, and said something, but more to himself than to her: "It can't be... It... He's dead. I killed him...."  
  
'Whom did you kill?" Shayla couldn't keep herself from asking anymore.   
  
And he had looked at her with his normally sparkling, now dull, green eyes, as if he had never seen her before, and whispered: "A devil. I killed a devil before he could kill me like he had killed my parents...."  
  
Shayla shuddered. His voice was not recogneizable as that of her husband and he had suddenly a strong, strange accent.  
  
"Your parents have been killed?" she asked cautiously.  
  
He closed his eyes shortly and when he opened them again, she could see a new determination in them: "Shayla, I... I never told you much about my past, and I'm thankful that you've never asked me. But now you have to learn some things, because I will have to go back and I will leave it to you if you want to accompany me or stay with the tribe. But... it is possible that I will not be able to return. "  
  
She almost fainted, and tried to kiss his hands, cowering in front of him: "Please, tell me, did I do something wrong? How have I caused your anger?" Her voice shook and she struggled with tears.  
  
He urged her to go up and kissed her gently, afterwords he pulled her in a soothing embrace and whispered: "You've done nothing, Shayla. You are a wonderful woman. You've been my wife and my friend, mother of my children and my lover and I dearly love you. Because of you I have a family, something I never really had before." He paused and continued then: "But if the devil has risen again, he will be after me and everyone who is dear to me. And my friends and many other people there in my home country will be in grave danger. As well as you and the children if you stay with me."  
  
"What kind of danger could we possibly be in?" She shivered at the thought of someone who could endanger that many people - someone who made her husband, a courageous man, tremble and scream in his sleep...  
  
He gulped and bit his lips. "I hope you will not leave me after I told you this, Shayla, because you are not aware of something about me. Your family - everyone of the tribe - would be furious if they ever learned about my true... identity. So, the only thing I ask you to do is to listen me once, and then decide if you yet wish to stay my wife. I will not take Karim or Fatiha from you, don't be afraid of that. They belong in the desert, to the bedouins."  
  
She nodded with wide eyes.  
  
"I don't know how to tell you... but... I am a wizard, Shayla."  
  
She involuntarily shrank back All her life she had only heard that magic - all magic - was dark and not after Allahs wishes. And now he - her husband, the kindest man on earth - was telling her that he was a magician?  
  
"Please, let me explain, Shayla. There are two kinds of magic - one part of it is dark magic, and one part is light. My parents were fighters against the dark side and it was an evil, dark wizard who killed them when I was only 1 year old... I survived only because of a miracle - my mothers love had given me a protection, so that he, the dark wizard was killed by his own curse that he had directed at me."   
  
He trembled, she saw it and it frightened her horribly, but he continued speaking: "He returned ... and I have been fighting him in one form or the other, since my 11th year. When I was 18, I managed to destroy him - or so, I thought. It was a war, and many died on both sides. I just couldn't bear the memories, the constant reminders of the dead and the tortured anymore, and I decided to leave everything and everyone I knew to begin a new life. I travelled a lot and when I came to Saudi-Arabia, I found my way to Allah. I changed my name... And... The rest you know."  
  
She only stared at him in disbelieve: "You... are a magician - a *good* magician? How can you be a magician - and *good*?"  
  
Her husband sighed: "I found nothing in the holy qu'ran that told me that I was evil just for doing magic or being a wizard. I am a good, a light wizard, because my intentions with which I used my abilities are good. A wise man once told me that it doesn't matter what we are, but what choices we make. I've made my choice to fight against evil. I've made it and I can't see why it should be disrespect against Allah to do good."  
  
Slowly, Shayla nodded. His words made sense. But fear grew constantly in her hear: "Karim, you - you won't push me away from you, will you?"  
  
He shook his head, smiling a thin smile: " Of course not, although it might be better for you and the children.  
  
She was incredibly relieved, and gave him a kiss. He carressed her back and a long silence followed, until she suddenly broke it: "You... you said you'd changed your name? What... what was your name before it?"  
  
She felt him gulping, and then he answered: "Harry Potter. Harry James Potter." 


	2. Snakes And Prayers

Snakes and Prayers  
  
  
  
DISCLAIMER:   
  
This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
  
AN: I just learned that someone I know is going to get married - an arranged marriage.  
  
I knew for a long time that he wanted to become engaged with a girl he'd seen when he was on holiday at home, in a different country.  
  
They don't know each other (only saw each other for a few hours), and she grew up very different from him.  
  
He lives here, in a country far away, in a large city, and she's lived in a small village all her life.   
  
In a very traditional, Islamic family.  
  
And know, he has succeeded in convincing her father to let him marry her.  
  
She'll come here, and marry him, after her fathers wishes  
  
- I don't even know, if she has been asked for her opinion...   
  
A man she does not know, who she's only seen a few hours in the presence of others.  
  
I wonder what she feels.   
  
I know that he won't hurt her.   
  
He is a nice guy - at least, I hope he will still be this way when they are alone.  
  
And he has been talking about how much he wants to marry this girl for over a year now.  
  
I never really realized how realistic my story was, when I wrote it.   
  
It is quite shocking, I have to admit.   
  
I only hope, they'll be happy.  
  
  
  
On with the story...  
  
***  
  
  
  
Karim was furious. His little sister had vanished - again.   
  
  
  
And who had to look after her?   
  
  
  
Him.   
  
  
  
He, who was a man! (Well, almost a man - he was not yet 9).  
  
  
  
He could have asked one of the girls to look for her, but he was afraid they would find her doing something strange.  
  
  
  
She always did strange things.   
  
  
  
People of the tribe called her 'Snake Princess', because she had always one ore two of her favourite animals with her - two little green snakes.  
  
  
  
She never joined the games of the other girls and preferred to spent the time she did not help with the cattle going for long walks in the desert. And then she would return and show them some nice looking stones, or tell them of small animals she'd seen.  
  
  
  
She was not like other girls, and would have been looked at with suspicious eyes, had it not been for her gentle and friendly personality.   
  
  
  
One look in her innocent smiling face and even the First of the tribe could not stay angry when she had once again been away in the desert until after sunset.  
  
  
  
But Karim was concerned, because he knew something the others didn't know.  
  
  
  
He knew that her nickname 'Snake Princess' was far more appropriate than every other person in the tribe could have imagined...  
  
  
  
  
  
He had once caught her making hissing sounds, smiling happily at her pet snakes and making horrible sounds.  
  
  
  
And when he asked her what in Allah's name she was doing there, she had looked up at him, entirely confused, and answered: "Talking with my snakes. They do all I say."  
  
  
  
Suddenly he had felt very cold and his voice did sound strange in his own ears when he demanded: "They... you can make snakes doing things for you?"  
  
  
  
And she had smiled innocently, proudly at her brother and was oblivious to the fact that he had become deathly pale: "Yes, they understand all I say."   
  
  
  
And with that, she made again those terrible hissing sounds and soon both snakes returned the hissing and moved up her arms and layed themselves around her neck.  
  
  
  
Karim shuddered.   
  
  
  
What should he do?   
  
  
  
Normally he would have had to report this.   
  
  
  
To report this to the Eldest.   
  
  
  
But he already knew what would happen to her if anyone found out.   
  
  
  
She would be an outcast.   
  
  
  
They would call her evil and then she would never be able to live happy again.   
  
  
  
Never marry. Never get children. She would be like dead.  
  
  
  
Suddenly he gripped her chin and said firmly: "Has anyone seen you talking to your snakes? Anyone beside me, I mean?"  
  
  
  
And when she, sensing that he wasn't at all happy about her ability to converse with snakes, hesitated to answer, he shook her: "Answer me Fatiha. It is very important! Has anyone seen you!?"  
  
  
  
Beginning to sob, she replied: "I... I don't think so. Maybe... maybe father..."  
  
  
  
Karim's heart threatened to stop beating. If their father had seen her... "Fati, has father seen you? And if, when?"  
  
  
  
He felt himself getting pannicked. Really, this was his little baby sister. He couldn't get his mind around the fact that she did unnatural things.   
  
  
  
She wasn't evil - she couldn't be evil. But everyone would think she was. He had to protect her - if it wasn't too late already.   
  
  
  
Now crying freely, Fatiha said: "It was a few hours ago. He came by and I was just telling Shira and Shani to curl around my wrists. But he didn't stop, he was with the cattle. I don't think he's heard us."  
  
  
  
At her use of the word 'us', which should most likely mean her and her snakes, he flinched. So they not only understood, but answered? This was really, really bad...  
  
  
  
Making a decision, Karim forced her to look at him and said firmly: "Fatiha, you'll never tell anyone that you can speak to snakes, you understand me? Not mother, not father, not one of the children - no one. They would either think that you have an illness of your mind or that you do evil magic."  
  
  
  
She looked shocked: "How can it be evil? I like them and they do no harm?"  
  
  
  
Karim sighed and pulled her into an embrace: "Yes, I know, little snake princess. But you have to promise me to be careful. No one can no about this, it is very important that you remember this - no one!"  
  
  
  
She sighed heavily: "If it is that important to you - I will do it. But it is going to be difficult. I want to tell someone. I want to show what they can do!"  
  
  
  
At this, her brother gave her an unsure smile: "If you have to, you can show it to me. But no one else, and only when I say it is alright to do so. Only when we are alone. Promise?"  
  
  
  
"Promise."  
  
  
  
And this has it been - from time to time he would accompany her out in the desert and she would show him her ability to communicate with the light-green animals.  
  
  
  
He even had led some strange discussions with the snakes - with his little sister as the proud interpreter. He had learned how afraid they were that someone would take them away from her.  
  
  
  
And he learned how proud they were to be with a human who could speak with them: "Because warmbloods are sooo stupid mostly."  
  
  
  
This statement, interpreted by his sister, had made him smile at the small hissing creature in front of him.  
  
  
  
And he had decided that he was right to protect Fatiha. She was innocent, not evil and certainly no threat to anyone.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Harry watched his daughter out of shadowed eyes. She was beautiful and intelligent - and he had seen what Karim had tried to hide from him.  
  
  
  
In a way, he was proud that his daughter had inherited his ability to communicate with snakes, but in another way it made him feel unsure.  
  
  
  
It had been sheer luck, that Karim had been the one to find out - and that he didn't go to the Eldest.   
  
  
  
As much as Harry loathed to admit it - the tribal law was medieval.   
  
  
  
As long as you went conform with everyone else, it was ok. But if you were any different - like, for example, a homosexual - you could be severely punished for something you couldn't help.  
  
  
  
Maybe Parsel was not the only thing Fatiha had inherited. Maybe...  
  
  
  
It was clearly time to act.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
One week later, Harry stood in the hotel room he'd rented and looked down at his sleeping family. He wondered if he was crazy to take them with him.  
  
  
  
They were all so innocent, Shayla had never been to a large city, and Karim and Fatiha had never been to any kind of city at all, not even a small one. All they knew was the freedom, the width of the desert.  
  
  
  
And now - England? Diagon Alley? Hogwarts? He shuddered ate the thought of Shayla, his shy Shayla in her veils in the somehow rough atmosphere of Diagon Alley, in crowds of strangers...  
  
  
  
Normally he liked the fact that no other man than him, her father or her brothers had ever seen her face, but she would be very outstanding, very much a foreigner in England.  
  
  
  
And how would she deal with the dirt, and the totally different climatic conditions?  
  
  
  
He looked at his wrist watch and decided that it was high time to wake her up. They were in Amadi now, a small village near Cairo, and had to take the post bus at 5 am in order to catch their flight from Cairo to Athen, and from there to London.  
  
  
  
He had thought of apparating directly, but then had made up his mind against it.  
  
  
  
He had apparated numerous times, and also groups of more than four people over large distances, in the time of his activities for the Order of the Phoenix, but this was very different.  
  
  
  
First of all, he hadn't done any magic in over 9 years and was afraid that he would endanger his family by making a foolish mistake because he was out of training, and second, he knew that this would require careful handling.   
  
The shock for Shayla and the children would be huge enough even without it, and he wanted them to have time to slowly adjust to the modern, unfamiliar surrounding.  
  
  
  
He caressed her cheek gently and whispered softly: 'Wake up, my wife.'  
  
  
  
He always called her that, he liked the thought that she was his, that he finally had a real family of his own.  
  
  
  
A family that didn't care, didn't even know that he had once been a famous wizard, a warrior.  
  
  
  
It had been the first thing that had him attracted to the Arabic world.  
  
  
  
That it was the only place in the world where he could show his face, even his scar, without constantly hearing a whispered 'Look! Isn't that...' wherever he went, and that looks, that were admiring, but also fearful.  
  
  
  
Harry had realized while in 7th year, that people admired him, placed him on a podest of admiration, but that they also feared him because of his far-too-well-known powers..  
  
  
  
And there had always been people who even mistrusted him for his knowledge and skills of the Dark Arts, which he had to use in his fight against the Dark Forces of Voldemort.  
  
  
  
It didn't show openly, only the eyes betrayed the mistrust, and he had overheard people if someone could use the Unforgivables, even if for a good cause, without becoming evil.  
  
  
  
He had to thank Dumbledore for his unshakable faith in him, for his opinion that someone with good intentions had a good heart and could never be evil.  
  
  
  
Harry had once seen a muggle movie - it must have been nearly 20 years ago - in which a spy had had the 'licence to kill'.  
  
  
  
He had found the film highly amusing then, especially because he'd imagined Snape being this guy (for it was clearly a parody), but now he couldn't see anything amusing in having such a licence.  
  
  
  
Because it had been given to him, the official permission for the use of the Dark Arts, including the Unforgivables.  
  
  
  
He remembered clearly the first time he'd had to use the AK-curse, it had been at the end of his 7th year, and he'd had lessons in the Dark Arts for over a year then.   
  
  
  
Blaise Zabini had directed the Killing Curse at him, and the only thing that was known to be able to stop the curse from hitting you, was to use the same curse at the same time, with more strength.  
  
  
  
Afterwards he'd had a nervous breakdown, only being able to think that he had now killed someone, and with the same curse that had cost him his parents.   
  
  
  
Fortunately Sirius had been there for him, and slowly he, Ron and Hermione had managed to pull him back, out of his desperation and his feelings of selfloathing and desire to die as well.  
  
  
  
And it had made him, if not friends, then comrads with Severus Snape.  
  
  
  
He'd had long ago realized that Snape had to be someone of those few people who knew what it meant to do wrong things out of the right reasons.  
  
  
  
And Snape had been a spy for so long, he had not only killed Death Eaters, evil people and in self-defence, but also muggles, innocent men, women and children, out of the duty to keep up his appearance of a loyal inner-circle Death Eater.  
  
  
  
That must have been the worst, and Harry now nearly understood what his most feared teacher had gone through. No wonder that his potionsmaster had been so impatient with his students and hadn't been able to bear their childish behaviour... Harry even understood now why Snape acted that much nicer towards the Slytherins.  
  
  
  
Harry had learnt a lot about the dark side of magic while being on missions for the Order, even during his 7th year, and in order to learn how the psyche of a 'typical' Death Eater worked, he had spoken with many captured Death Eaters.  
  
  
  
This had finally led him to the conclusion that most of them had had a very cold, loveless childhood and that, if they'd had a helping hand on certain points of their lifes, they might not have become followers of the Dark Lord.  
  
  
  
Harry Potter himself hadn't had a very nice childhood. He always thought that his childhood had ended at the age of only 1 year - ten years of emotional and sexual abuse couldn't count as a 'childhood' - and afterwards he had been freed from this heavy burden but it had been replaced with the responsibility that came with his unwanted fame as the 'Boy-who-lived'.  
  
  
  
He had once heard something out of mythology that said: 'If you safe one mans life, you are responsible for him for the rest of your own life.'  
  
  
  
And he had thought, with a tired smile, what that meant for him, as the so-called 'Savior of the Wizarding World'.   
  
  
  
It was clear to him, and he had the impression that most other people thought so as well, didn't even question it in any way, that he would one day safe them from that monster they all feared most.  
  
  
  
Harry sighed.  
  
  
  
Suddenly he realized that he had caressed Shaylas cheek for the last five minutes, without even realizing that she was already awake and smiling curiously at him: "Is everything alright, Karim?'  
  
  
  
That was what he had been asking himself for the past days, ever since his long-forgotten nightmares had returned. What if HE had returned again?  
  
  
  
He smiled sadly down at his wife and said gently: 'We have to get ready, its time. I want to tell you a few things before we wake up the children.'  
  
  
  
She nodded, and couldn't hide her trembling.   
  
  
  
He placed a kiss on her forehead before saying soothingly: 'Don't be afraid, Shayla. It's nothing bad, I only have to inform you about a few details that you should know before we arrive in Europe.'   
  
  
  
He smiled reassuringly and continued: 'First, you have to know that, at this time of the year, it is very cold in England - like in some of the coldest nights in the desert. And...' He hesitated, ' We will be stared at, because I am... famous, in the wizarding world, for my killing of that dark wizard I told you about.   
  
And the magical community is not used to clothes like we are wearing. They don't believe in Allah, some of them are Christians, but mostly they are atheists. You'll have to be tolerant with them, because they behave... different... against women.'  
  
  
  
She asked, frowning: 'Different? How?'  
  
  
  
Harry smiled weakly, brushing a few hairs out of her face: 'Don't worry, they won't do anything to you. But... in the Western world, people think that women and men are equals. Because of that believe, women can lead an independent life, have jobs and can free themselves out of abusive relationships more easily than women of our tribe... and they act more.. free... in company of men. That means, they shake hands, they hug each other, not only other women, but also men, and sometimes they have sex before marriage.'  
  
  
  
Seeing her shocked expression he had to suppress a grin: 'Nothing to worry about, precious. I simply wanted you to be prepared if one of my male friends tries to take your hand or hug you. It means no offence, no disrespect. Of course, you'll refuse - I'll explain it to them, they'll understand.'  
  
  
  
She nodded again. This 'England' terrified her, but her husband would be with her, and she had faith in him. He would protect them.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
They hadn't seen him for almost exactly 10 years now.  
  
  
  
Ron and Hermione were married now and had six children, Ron stayed at home and looked after them, while Hermione worked as a lawyer.  
  
  
  
Her position in the magical community was unique. Despite the fact that she was commonly known as part of the 'Golden Trio', and intimate confident of the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Defeat-The-Dark-Lord, she was also the only person existing to have graduated from both muggle and wizarding universities.  
  
  
  
The fact that she was married to the man who had been the one to safe his best friends, Harry Potters, life numerous time and this way bonded to a family of war heroes, only added to the fact that the name Hermione Granger (which she had kept after muggle-law and had had to give up after the conservative wizarding-law) was one that carried almost as much fame as that of the Boy-Who-Lived himself.   
  
  
  
Ronald Weasley, who had always been overlooked in the shadow of the Golden Boy, had been one of this wars biggest surprises.  
  
  
  
He, not one of the well-trained members of the Order of the Phoenix (he had never been found important, intelligent and powerful enough to be very valuable for the fight, despite the fact that Hermione and Harry were both members of the Order), had been the one to ensure Harrys final victory over Voldemort.  
  
  
  
He had covered Harrys' back and killed numerous Death Eaters, without any hesitation - Lucius Malfoy, Peter Pettygrew, that traitorous Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge - they all had died from his hands.  
  
  
  
His determination had been his strength, his determination to protect his best friend - without thinking about the risk for his own life. He had never really learned to fight, never ever used an Unforgivable before, never used any dark curse - but now he used the AK and that with more success than most of the aurors.  
  
  
  
After the battle, Hermione had found a different person.  
  
  
  
It was as if she didn't knew the warrior, the man that stood in front of her.  
  
  
  
It was still Ronald Weasley, but he had changed in a way almost not imaginable.  
  
  
  
He carried a new aura of self-confidence, something he had lacked before, and the glowing in his eyes seemed to say: 'Now that I've seen the devil I can manage to fight YOU all time.'  
  
  
  
It was the aura of a very dangerous man.  
  
  
  
At first, she had been almost frightened, but than he had smiled at her again, and had shown her that part of him that was still the old Ron she'd known for so long.   
  
  
  
And Harry had disappeared directly after the battle, only leaving a short note:  
  
  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
  
To All My Friends:  
  
  
  
I've done, with your help, what was expected of me.  
  
  
  
The old devil as gone.  
  
  
  
And the Wizarding world has been rescued once more.  
  
  
  
I've decided to leave, and don't know when I - and if I - will com back to you.  
  
  
  
I need to find to myself now.  
  
  
  
Please don't try to find me, be sure that you won't be able to.  
  
  
  
Ron, Hermione, Sirius - you are my family and I love you. Never doubt that. Please, try to understand.  
  
  
  
Ginny - in a different world our love would maybe have had a chance. I know you love me, and now I'm free to tell you that I've been feeling the same for you for many years now. Please - don't be sad or angry that I didn't act along my feelings. I would never have wanted to risk your life by making you a number one target of Voldemorts. Please, believe me that I did it to ensure your safety and to rescue you from the darkness that lingers in my heart. Because I'm dark - I've used the Killing Curse so many times that I'm the nearest to a dark wizard you can imagine. I need to learn to control my inner darkness, a darkness that flooded through my link to Voldemort since I got that scar and which grew stronger each time I was forced to kill. I think that you, of all people, will best understand what that means...  
  
  
  
George, Fred - you've brought a bit light and laughter in my otherwise overshadowed life. For this I can't thank you enough.  
  
  
  
Molly - you are the nearest to a mother I have known. You always treated me like one of your own. Words cannot describe what I feel for you. I hope you will be able to understand why I'm going. I'm sure you will, because you've always known what I needed. Take care.  
  
  
  
And now to my comrads in arms - Arthur, Bill, Sev (I know you hate me for calling you this, but it is how I see you) Remus, Minerva... So many of us, of the Order, and others, have died. leaving gaps that cannot be filled.  
  
  
  
I could never thank you enough for the help you all gave me.  
  
  
  
I'll never forget you  
  
  
  
Harry James Potter  
  
  
  
  
  
-------------------------------------  
  
  
  
At first they all had hoped that he would reappear after a week, but the week went by and life went on - without any notice from Harry.  
  
  
  
Hermione had quickly fallen in love with the new, more mature and less hot-tempered Ron, and one year after Harrys disappearance they had got married.  
  
  
  
They'd both cried in each others arms in their wedding night, because Harry wasn't there at there wedding ceremony, and didn't celebrate with them.  
  
  
  
After a while, their children were born, and they'd lost their hope to see him ever again.  
  
  
  
***********************************  
  
  
  
It was March, 23rd, the 10th anniversary of the famous battle, and the anniversary of the deaths of many respected and loved people  
  
  
  
Albus Dumbledore  
  
Filius Flitwick  
  
Rubeus Hagrid  
  
Draco Malfoy  
  
Parvati Patil  
  
Padma Patil  
  
Percy Weasley  
  
Lavender Brown  
  
Dean Thomas  
  
Kevin Creevey  
  
Colin Creevey  
  
Angelica Johnson  
  
Oliver Wood  
  
  
  
and numerous others.  
  
  
  
Every year, the remaining members of the Order came back and renewed their old oath to protect the Light and honoured those who had died for their cause.  
  
  
  
Hermione had tears in her eyes when Remus Lupin spoke about Dumbledores kindness, Draco Malfoys incredible courage and all the other characteristics of the dead.  
  
  
  
Ron stood at her side, a tall, broad-shouldered man with relatively long hair that he had bent back in a pony-tail. His jaw was clenched, the scar he had gotten at his cheek in The Battle red at his pale skin (he had never allowed anyone to heal it, he had told them that it was a sign of rememberence for him), and she knew that he was thinking of one person who wasn't dead but who could as well have been, as far as they knew, because no one had seen him for more than a decade.   
  
  
  
She pressed his hand reassuringly and he turned to smile at her.  
  
  
  
It was Remus who saw the stranger first.  
  
  
  
He came by foot from the hill that lay behind the former battlefield, wearing a cloak of light color.  
  
  
  
When he came nearer, a few of them looked at him, but Sirius whispered something inaudible, in a grave voice that nobody but Remus with his werewolf-sences could understand.  
  
  
  
Because of Sirius thunderstruck expression they now all looked at the stranger, unsure what to do, but Sirius transformed quickly into his canine form and jumped in direction of the man who walked slowly towards the battle-monument.  
  
  
  
Harry stopped dead when he saw the grimlike dog approaching him.  
  
  
  
Sirius transformed back and looked with disbelieving eyes at his long-lost godson.  
  
  
  
Harry had changed a lot - his clothes looked foreign, he had a beard now and had the skin of a man who spent very much time outside, in a sunny country.  
  
  
  
But it was unmistakingly his godson Harry Potter.  
  
  
  
After what seemed an eternity of staring, Sirius finally whispered in a voice that seemed almost as croaky as it had been at their first meeting in the Shrieking Shack so long ago: 'Where have you been.'  
  
  
  
And then, growing louder and finally launching himself at Harry and backhanding him: 'Where have you been, alll this years, goddamm you!!!'  
  
  
  
Harry was pushed down to the ground by this surprise attack and didn't defend himself.  
  
  
  
Tears stood in his green eyes when he watched Sirius screaming at him.  
  
  
  
Finally, Sirius felt himself being pulled away from Harry and heard Hermiones cry of surprise when she saw who the one was Sirius had attacked.  
  
  
  
'Harry!?"  
  
  
  
An awkward silence followed. Everyone looked at the strange clad man in front of them.  
  
  
  
This was what Harry had feared most - the first encounter with his former friends, his comrads.  
  
  
  
He cleared his throat: 'Hello...' It came out almost as croaky as Sirius' voice had sounded.  
  
  
  
Remus Lupin began to smile broadly, stepped forward and said: 'Hello again, Harry.'  
  
  
  
And pulled Harry in an embrace that showed clearly that he had been missing his friend just as much as Sirius Black.  
  
  
  
That broke the tension. Hermione went forward and clung her arms around both men, and suddenly they were joint by everyone assembled.  
  
  
  
With only one exception - Sirius Black stood there and stared, stared at his godson, as if struggling to decide if this was some wonderful dream or reality.  
  
  
  
Finally, Harry, who had been kissed, hugged and welcomed back, looked up and met his godfathers gaze.  
  
  
  
The others slowly stepped back and watched the two men - one young, but clearly mature and with an air of insecurity around him - and the other older, obviously struggling with different emotions and just as insecure.  
  
  
  
The anger in Sirius' eyes had disappeared and he reached out his arms: 'Welcome back, my son.'  
  
  
  
Harry couldn't hold back his tears any more and stepped closely to his godfather: 'Father...'  
  
  
  
The people stared at them in amazement, because only Remus Lupin had known that Sirius Black and Harry Potter had been calling each other 'father' and 'son' for quite a while when being alone.  
  
  
  
And then Harry reached out his hand, hesitantly, as if frightened, but Sirius pulled him into a rather crushing embrace, and they could hear him muttering: 'Don't do that ever again. You... You scared us to half to death.. I thought you were dead - I feared you'd committed suicide...'  
  
  
  
Harry only answered: ' I wouldn't do that, Sirius.'  
  
  
  
The bystanders only watched the two men, Sirius cried openly, while Harry tried to calm him down.  
  
  
  
Finally, Harry stepped out of his godfathers arms and walked towards the stone, the memorial stone in which the name of the fallen fighters of the Order were engraved.  
  
  
  
He knelt down, and to the astonishment of the others, began to pray.  
  
  
  
Only Hermione, who was muggleborn, realized that he followed the muslemic praying rites..  
  
  
  
She folded her hands in the way she'd learned in her childhood and joined him in the silent prayer, and soon each other followed - the wizards from pureblood families mostly followed a slightly different version of christianity, it was deeply influenced by their respect for the forces of the nature, and some, like Sirius and Severus, were atheists - but they all joint in a moment of silence in rememberence of their lost friends.  
  
  
  
The only sound that could be heard in the next minutes was an low 'Allah' from Harry and that of the wind.  
  
  
  
When Hermione had finished with her prayer, she watched Harry curiously.  
  
  
  
He really had changed a lot, and now she recognized his clothing as that of a strong believing muslim.  
  
  
  
After he had finished his prayer as well and had stood up, she addressed him: 'Harry? Would you...? Would you like to come with us? We were going to have dinner together at Rons and my place.'  
  
  
  
He looked from Ron to her and back and began to smile broadly. 'You to are... together?'  
  
  
  
It was Sirius who answered for them: 'Together? - They have been married for 9 years now - and they have six children!  
  
  
  
It was clearly to see that Harry was nearly in tears again: 'You - you are parents? I'm so glad!!! Of course, I'd like to meet your children.'  
  
  
  
And after a short moment of hesitation he added: 'I'd also like to bring someone with me, if that's alright:'  
  
  
  
Surprised, Hermione nodded: 'Of course, you know I'd like to meet every friend you've made.'  
  
  
  
Harry seemed to be suppressing a chuckle, but only replied: 'Fine, if you'd be so kind and tell me where you live, I'd be there with my ... company... in one hour.'  
  
  
  
Hermione said: 'It's the house directly beside the Burrow. You can't miss it.'  
  
  
  
And Harry smiled again: 'Thank you, I think I will find that.'  
  
And then he disappeared, apparated directly out of there midst.  
  
  
  
Nobody said anything for a moment. It seemed as if they were almost a bit shocked. Remus had laid his hand on Sirius' shoulder and looked worried at his best friend who was white like chalk and shaking like a leaf in the wind.  
  
  
  
Then, finally, Ron said: 'What about a cup of tea before dinner?'  
  
  
  
And they all joined them, even Severus Snape who rarely socialised with his former comrades.  
  
  
  
******************************  
  
  
  
tbc  
  
  
  
Yes, I know - it is highly exaggerated and not well written. But please, be gentle with me and don't flame me - I am no native speaker. If someone would like to beta for me, I'd be eternally gratefull! 


End file.
